Poetry - Year VI - Number 46 - March 2021

W w e h e ro dw e o c m ef r o m, w h e r e d ot h e y grow,the vines of reason, hieroglyphics,the artifacts of tongues?when does waxof...

Spirals of SoundIIf One of us must dieI hope it is I.When I thought my son with leukemia was dead, I screamed at God,“Take me instead!”The wish still stands inside my head.The signs and...

PegasusWhen spring comes and the winged wind brings itthe seeds of life and the boldness of the harbinger of creationthe wonderful sublimation of matrices that healin a cosmic dance provided in the attraction of...

STINGERThe autumn encroaches my delineationRadiantMightyRenaissance-styledIn its zibellino accessoryMuddles my reposePigments my memoryJams snouts and tailsAt the bottom of dusty brush washersBrutality demyelinates my axonsI am groping for the pointI’d lost myselfIn the smother of...

sisters could i just make a candle of youto burn your essencearound mesheaths of fire marigold to bask in the spiral twirlof your silken smoke rings burning mail and twigsand memories on torn papertequila wine skinny dippin...

Dancers on a rooftop Sirens in flight, light feetAnd white - if only you wereLess bright, I, the messengerSin sight could dream your great heightBut I deem myself far removed From white-light. Henceforth I simply evaporate Butterflies They break...

The Undead With a tip of the hat to Sam Kinison. I think about Frankenstein, the mummy, zombies, ghosts,vampires, Nosferatu, poltergeists and revenants. All of them died, but somehow became undead. They haunt our dreamsand waking hours...

while we’re away lights on the bayflicker twice, then recedeto the crawl space of Summerwinds resonatingthe deep chilled wisconsin And winter will whipwhile we’re away yet waves rarely sleepopting instead to replenishthe sea and her sandswith the...

The Humanity Of The Enemy Reality, is a rocking cradle, God is able, a miracle sleepsMother's gentle hand does not understand forces beyond her commandThe winds wails, the system fails, hatred prevailsReligion, nationality, ethnicity, ideology,...

Waking Up The sun peeks over the mountain’s ridgeas it does every morningunless there are clouds to hide behind.The bright orange, yellow familiar glowfills the house through drawn curtains. Our winding road is glistening, fresh with...